“Right here,” answered Sid, who, because of his knowledge in that line, had been selected for this post of honor.
“They’ll be here pretty soon now,” prophesied Tom. “Bascome has his crowd in waiting somewhere, and he just lingered around college until he saw us start. Then they’ll delay until they think we’re all here, and they’ll rush in, and make a rough house.”
“That is, they think they will,” corrected Phil, with a grin. “I rather think they’ll be surprised some.”
The four moved about the room, completing their arrangements, while Sid busied himself with a large camera, which was focused on the door leading into the banquet hall, and got ready a flashlight powder.
“I think I hear them coming,” spoke Tom in a whisper, about half an hour later. “Get ready, Sid.”
“I’m all ready.”
They listened. Out in the corridor there were shuffling noises, as if several persons were trying to walk quietly. There was a brushing against the door, and a cautious whisper.
Suddenly the knob of the portal was tried, and a voice in the hall cried:
“Give up, sophs! We’ve got you!”
Several bodies flung themselves against the door, and to the surprise of the freshmen, who were headed by Bascome and Delfield, they found that the portal was not locked. It opened easily—so easily, in fact, that several of the lads fell to the floor, and the others rushed over them. There was a scene of confusion, and this probably prevented the attacking freshmen from seeing that only four sophomores were present. The first year lads caught sight of the table, with its glistening array of silver and glass, and they took it for granted that they were in the banquet place of their enemies.